Diary Entry of a Summoner: The Crystal Scarred

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Gankie

Senior Member

12-31-2011

Out of character notes: A mini story I had been wanting to write for a while-- about the joys and horrors of the micro-war at Kalamanda, and the creation of the Crystal Scar.

Diary entry of a Summoner: The Crystal Scarred




I'll just come out and say it. I was present in Kalamanda during the time of the Institute of war's interruption to the war being fought between Demacia and Noxus for a hot-bed of wealth and influential power. this was a hard thing for me to do, as I am a Noxian residing within the walls of Demacian influence. There are things that even I wish I could not see that happened there, and I honestly wish there was a way things could have been different. Why the most peaceful solution to a warring problem was a massive area time stop that not only put thousands of innocent lives in jeoporady-- Noxian, Demacian-- and Summoner alike.

The first two days of the war saw many recessions. Both sides would attack, but neither gained or lost any ground despite gaining or losing soldiers. It was nothing how the Journal of Justice described it. Each side used some of their most powerful mages to summon a massive crystal each-- They would each become a massive gateway for both parties to be bringing a constant wave of reinforcements, spite both Crystals being well within artilliery range of each other. However, shields erected by other summoners was preventing ease of destruction for a lopsided victory. I could tell from the moment I had crawled over the ridge from where us summoners were staged. A female summoner in front of me turned, and immediately gave me a concerned look.

"...Prinny, You really need to see this."

Now, at this time, my name isn't really PrinnyDood. My real name is Deloux Prinnsvaleux. Even I don't like prounouncing this, as it immediately gives away my Noxian heritage. My sister's child was the one who started the trend with my name. She could not pronounce my name and thus called me "Uncle Prinny". She then got in the bad habit (like her father, I imagine) and started adding 'dude' to everything. Prinnydude sounded pretty neat-- but noone told me when I first became a summoner that the lady at the initial sign up terminal couldn't spell. Prinnydude was suddenly spelt "Prinnydood." I wore this nametag around the institute for a month before I had realized she spelled it wrong. Now you, dear diary, know how I have this name. Back to the story, however.

As this female summoner called towards me, did my own feet carry me over this ridge. We all arrived via a portal a few hundred meters away. The blistering light from the Crystals channeled into the night sky could have been described as a beautiful sight amongst the night sky--

Had they not been representing an all out war. Bodies of the healthy, wounded, and the dead littered the mining camp, nearly every conceivable path possible. This was my first time in Kalamanda, and it was my first time where I realized that there was a second reason beyond our knowing for being here. We knew we were to act as mediators to end this conflict, but thats what we were told. The Archmages would have been a dutiful and perfect fit for this operation. I felt something tug at my senses, and I turned. A champion from the Institute of war was floating behind me. He had gears and watches everywhere, but each was so well trued and maintained that I didn't hear that. I was the last of the some 200 requested summoners brought to the field. I had pulled my hood back, to great him. It would be this champion would see my greying features-- a touch from my growing beard and a little of my sideburns.

He smiled towards me.

"...Ah, I remember you." he said. "I see time is treating you well." Zilean was the first Champion in the league I had attained with my influence. The Influence system is interesting to say the least-- you must first prove your competence on the fields of justice using whoever is made available to you. As you get more influence within the League itself, more champions will become interested in being summoned by you. Many summoners will complain that the latest of champions are incredibly difficult to attain because they consider themselves elitists, but as Zilean would tell you, time and exposure to the
Institute of War may see them soften up a little.

"Why are you---"
"Why am I here?" He asked in return. He stood aside me, and surveyed the battlefield amist 199 other bewildered summoners. He floated out slowly, standing and blocking the field from many our view. "...You are all here because all of you are Demacian and Noxian Summoners of high caliber." He said. Many of the summoners exchanged glances. Some people still had a touch of pride for their country.

"Yet, we need all of you. Behind me you will see two ethereal crystals of opposing countries. Blue is Demacia. Purple is Noxus. Several summoners have abandoned the Institute of War to further this battle and prolong it. Yet you are here to aid me, as I have hand picked all of you. We, dear summoners, are going to stop this war. Literally.

The female summoner aside me gasped. "A spell that big would kill us should any of us even BREATHE the wrong way." She announced. Those words drove worry into many other of the summoners. The old man standing before us all agreed with her.

"...Yes, Quite." He said. "But do you want your or anybody else's children to grow up living in a warzone like you all standing before me did?" He then spoke and said something, and immediately it reminded me of another night with a different champion. "We at the Institute of War promote peace. How can we promote peace if the world only knows violence? Allowing this to happen violates the very sanctity of the summoner's code. Should you die trying to prevent it, then you have given the ultimate cost in which to promote peace at all costs. You would never be forgotten for that."

I froze. Katarina Du Couteau said that exact same thing thing to me nearly a year earlier. Peace at all costs. I stood there, somewhat shocked at this revelation, and I began to wonder just exactly how many other champions shared this view. Needless to say, we all agreed, and the runes we needed were slowly sketched out onto the ground.

Nearly 8 hours of constant casting and careful panic past before the initial freeze took place, allowing many summoners a bit of room to breathe while others took over. During this time, a few summoners and myself walked down to the battlefield. Something right out of a story book. Another summoner had brought a camera-- the picture given to the Journal of Justice was one another summoner had taken, but I remember being able to walk that divide. Amongst the ranks of the living and the dead did I notice something-- something... well, horrible, disturbing really.

I began to recognize faces. They were undeniably recognizable. A dead body over there was still alive and mid-swing over here. Maybe I was the only one who caught this fact, but this must have been the true reason we summoners had been sent here in such a mass abundance. This was not war. Those Platforms weren't bringing in constant waves of fighters-- they were bringing back those who had fallen. Those rogue summoners had developed the ability to implement the exact same magicks for warfare as what was used on the Fields of Justice-- the ability to die, and be reborn. There was no magical instability here, just an open Field of battle. These summoners must have been close to being archmages-- but there was a problem. Once this magic was created, noone, not even an archmage, could stop it. nobody knew how.

After the war was stopped, the Journal of Justice revelled in Kalamanda's recent instability with the magicks. That's right. The Institute lied to its people and the citizens alike. Clearing the warfield was much easier than anticipated. After the initial freeze, Us summoners had to concoct a free flowing mana chamber that would contain this magicks used to create the summoning platforms within-- and more importantly, keep summoners from finding the real reason why Kalamanda is now known as the Crystal Scar. Warnings were to be posted to prevent citizens from entering, and most importantly, keep summoners out.

Peace at all costs. How long may this world not know of the Institute's deception?